


A Little Bubbly

by tiptoe39



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Hot Tub, Light-Hearted, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-13
Updated: 2010-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-09 10:29:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiptoe39/pseuds/tiptoe39
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt at the <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/spn_gabriel/104363.html">April Fool's Day meme</a> at <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/spn_gabriel/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://community.livejournal.com/spn_gabriel/"><b>spn_gabriel</b></a>, "Sam/Gabriel hot tub sex." Guess that's all you need to know.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Bubbly

Twilight. Cool, clear air. The first prickles of stars appear in the darkening sky.

The water laps against Sam's chest. His head angles back. He has no idea how he got here. But still, it's nice.

He's noticed this period of disorientation when he's blasted into another world, or another time, or another place. For a few addled seconds, he wanders, stares blankly, completely accepting his new surroundings before it occurs to him how different those surroundings are from where he's just been. That's the moment he's in right now. He's still enjoying how nice it is here, and hasn't quite made it to where here is.

Cutting through the haze is the slender neck of a champagne flute, held out by a damp hand and a dripping, bare arm. "Champagne?"

Sam breaks away from the trance. His head turns sharply, and he meets a pair of eyes that glint with amusement. "You!"

"Me!" Gabriel responds, mimicking Sam's tone. "Pfft, we're on a first-name basis now, aren't we?"

But Sam has already turned away. "You're naked," he stutters.

Gabriel can see the back of his neck turning red. He chortles. "It's a hot tub," he says flatly. "You want I should wear a sweater?"

Sam turns back, but not before steeling himself. "Why am I here? Where's Dean?"

"All business, you are." Gabriel pushes the champagne glass forward again. "Relax. Enjoy the am-bi-yance." His As are flat, wide vowels, like he's trying to sound like a hick. "A beautiful night. A little bubbly." The hot tub gurgles beneath him. "A little more bubbly."

"I don't think so," Sam says, and shoots to his feet.

He immediately regrets it.

Fizzy water sprays in all directions as, completely red-faced, Sam plunks back down. Gabriel laughs hysterically. "You didn't think I was the only naked one, did you?" he says between wiping away errant tears and struggling to catch his breath.

Sam mutters something unprintable and averts his eyes.

"Come on." Gabriel claps a hand to his shoulder. "Sit for a while. Relax. We'll talk. Then, I promise, right back home where you belong."

Sam lets his stiff body thaw a bit. "Fine," he mutters. "What do you want to talk about?"

"First you drink." Gabriel thrusts the flute at him for the third time.

Sam huffs out a sigh, takes it, and downs the whole thing in one go. "OK, now talk."

Gabriel's face has curled up in revulsion. "I wish you hadn't done that."

"You told me to drink it." The alcohol is already starting to zing through his system, but Sam fights to keep his speech straight. "If you want to drug me, you can drug me. Whatever it is, I wasn't going to escape it."

"No." Gabriel actually looks put out. "No, you weren't. But I was really looking forward to taking my time getting you drunk."

"I'm not interested in you taking your time with anything," Sam says sourly. "Rather have it... over with." He blinks hard, stretches out a hand to orient himself. The steam and the drink are succeeding in making him rather dizzy.

"You'd 'rather have it over with,'" Gabriel remarks. "How come that sounds so familiar?"

Sam doesn't answer. He's too busy trying to hold on to his equilibrium. Amid soft air and moving water, with the taste of sweet champagne in his mouth, he's starting to feel almost enchanted. It's a weird, golden-tinged feeling, and he's having trouble keeping his mind anything resembling clear.

Gabriel's talking to him through the haze, and his voice is deep, muffled, like he's speaking through glass. "You're the one who thought he could convince me to sit back and enjoy the ride," he says. "Think a little role reversal will help me see reason? Let's try it. See which one of us is convinced."

"What did you put in there?" Sam says. As though an angel is going to use some drug or potion he's ever heard of before. There's a brass band playing in his ears, and it sounds pleasant. He's full of contradictions.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Gabriel says, He puts down his own champagne glass and slides across the tub toward Sam. "Just sit back," he says in that same low, muffled voice. "Sit back and enjoy the ride."

Sam nods, because what else can he do but wait this out, whatever it is?

Still, when Gabriel's fingers curl around his cock, he gasps and shoves him away. "What the hell?"

His words come out blurry, though; he doesn't have the force behind his push he wants. Even more embarrassingly, he's gone hard under that one, brief pull. "This some... sort of date-rape drug?" he asks, or whispers, or something that doesn't sound terribly curious or worried.

"Pshaw," Gabriel says, and his legs open to trap Sam's knees between his. "I don't do date rape. Or any other kind. If I didn't know already, inside your head, that you wanted this, I wouldn't bother."

Sam isn't sure whether that's something he's known for a while, or if he's suppressed it entirely to get along in life. Either way, it's plain now, achingly plain. He mutters incoherently.

"Tell you what," Gabriel says, rising up and inching forward. "Five minutes. Five minutes and if you still want to say no, I'll stop. Then, home, safe and sound, as promised."

Sam doesn't accept or decline. He just says, "Why... you doing... this?"

Gabriel leans forward, tucks a strand of hair behind Sam's ear, and leans in to feather a light kiss along his jaw. "Why do people usually do it?" he says with a hint of a giggle. "Maybe I saw a dream you had last week and started wondering. Maybe I've been watching you ever since we first met. Maybe..."

His lips dust against Sam's. So briefly. So tenderly. Sam closes his eyes and makes an undignified noise.

"Maybe I knew you were never going to make the first move," Gabriel finishes.

Sam's eyes open. For an instant, through the alcohol-induced funk, he can see Gabriel's face sharp and clear.

Then his arms go out, catch in Gabriel's hair and between his shoulder blades, and he moans as their lips meet. Their mouths slide open, and Gabriel's body falls limp and warm over his. They kiss and kiss and kiss, like the world was created for it, like nothing in the world is important but this moment.

When they part, Gabriel's the flustered one, and Sam has the clear eyes of a predator.

He grinds up against Gabriel, his cock jutting up against the angel's hips. He pulls Gabriel's head down onto his shoulder, ravishes his neck with a warm mouth. The jets blast sprays of bubbles around them. Sam's hair has only briefly gotten damp, and Gabriel's is entirely dry, but Sam swiftly moves to remedy that. He sinks down into the water, pulling Gabriel with them, and for a blisteringly hot moment they're underwater together, Gabriel's eyes wide open against the jets and watching every contortion of Sam's face as he feels the spray and Gabriel's lips cover his chest with foam and kisses.

Then back to the surface, gasping, they come. Gabriel's face is dripping, his nose is dripping, his lips are dripping with a question. Sam smiles at him. Gabriel stares. "Don't you dare," Sam warns. "You asked for it."

The smile spreads across the scant air between them and envelops Gabriel's mouth, too. "So I did," he breathes.

Sam's hands find the concrete edge of the pool and trap Gabriel in the scant space between the edge and his body. He bears down on Gabriel, tipping his head back and kissing him with open eyes, watching the wetness of his hair stain the pavement dark gray. Water is dripping down his back, and as the air touches it Sam shudders with sudden spots of coolness. The jets are bubbling water between his body and Gabriel's.

There's a smile beneath him. "You're watching," Gabriel says.

"Just enjoying the ride," replies Sam.

The next kiss is soft, long and searching. For the first time there are no tricks, no traps -- just two men learning each other. The dim carbonation fades to ripples in the center of the tub, and Sam drags Gabriel there, wanting the only sensation to be the body beside his.

The only sensation, but it's dozens of sensations. Gabriel's lips, his teeth and tongue wielded expertly. His hand, traveling up and down Sam's back. His cock against Sam's, rolling up with the subtle waves of water and cresting in synch with Sam's. The rhythm is stunning, perfect, easy to follow. Natural and maddening.

"Want you," Sam gasps into Gabriel's mouth. "God. God, oh God, want you."

"Nice thing--" Gabriel speaks in small panting breaths. "--nice thing you can-- have me."

Sam tears himself way long enough to make a face that draws a laugh from Gabriel -- wrinkled nose, squinted eyes, pursed lips. "Will that even work?"

Gabriel's eyebrows rise. "If I want it to work," he says, "it'll work."

It's one of those moments when Gabriel looks not elfin but devilish, not mischievous but outright dangerous. Sam sucks in a long breath. "When you look at me like that--" he starts.

"Like this?" Lips turn upward. "What happens when I look at you like this?"

Sam pulls a palm across his brow. He's dying of heat. Then Gabriel pulls him close again and his kiss is like ice and wine. Sam meets his eyes, growls low in his throat, and with one powerful hand pulls Gabriel's thighs apart.

The water is rushing around them, and the jets seem strangely angled, like they're all pointing in one direction. _Gabriel's magic,_ Sam thinks. _Is there anything it can't do?_

Then Gabriel's legs wrap around him, and Sam is sinking into him and it's hot and slick and easy as entering a woman, and his dying brain knows the answer to that question is _no._

Sam's drowning, surrounded. He gasps, lets Gabriel take control of the kissing and the touching as he throws his head back, tosses wet hair and grunts. Gabriel's buoyant on him, light but unyielding, and where Gabriel's body isn't the water is. There's sensation everywhere, there's touch everywhere. The jets pummel him with spray.

Gabriel's heels dig into the small of his back. His legs are pressed against Sam's sides, his ankles locking him in position, and there's a circle of space between them where the water flows in and out. Sam can't get any closer than he is, joined to Gabriel at lips and hips, and it frustrates him. Every time he tries to pull Gabriel close, the angel floats away.

"Going to pin you down," Sam growls in his ear. "Next time."

Gabriel cuts off his own laugh. "I'll hold you to that," he whispers, but even that doesn't make it all the way out. Instead, he twitches and pushes himself down on Sam's cock. "Fuck it, Winchester, harder."

His hand is jerking between them. Sam puts his forehead on Gabriel's shoulder and looks down into the water at that pumping fist. He can feel Gabriel's rasping breaths in his hair. The water ripples over the image, and a spray of bubbles obscures it. Gabriel catches his breath and clings to Sam, hand rising to his forearm and clutching, as a shower of bubbles streams between them. Sam vaguely remembers jerking off in a Jacuzzi once, holding the head of his cock up to skirt the spray, thinking it felt like a thousand tiny mouths sucking and licking at him all at once. He watches Gabriel experience the same thing and it's even hotter than feeling it himself.

"Feels good?" he purrs into Gabriel's shoulder. Gabriel nods and makes an indistinct noise.  
"Good." Sam buries his mouth in Gabriel's shoulder and grabs his hips with big hands. He pulls the angel down onto him now, faster and harder, starting to send up great splashes with every thrust. Water clings to Gabriel's face, moans erupt from his mouth, and Sam has to watch him. The archangel of decadence, overwhelmed. Who would have thought.

He wraps his arms around Gabriel's back, finally eliminating that stubborn space between them, and Gabriel's legs fly apart. A yes flies from Gabriel's lips. Sam crushes it with his own mouth, then starts to whisper his own yeses. They fly faster and faster, the words and the moans and the movements, until Sam's lifting himself and Gabriel up in a burst of strength as sun-bright pleasure passes through him. His hips break the surface as he comes, and water flies in a translucent ring around them.

Somewhere behind or ahead of him Gabriel's shuddering and coming too, his semen flying in a spattering burst against Sam's chest. Sam lets the water wash it away, doesn't care if that makes the water dirty or makes him dirty or both. Dizzy, spent, he sinks down into the water up to the bridge of his nose, allows the water to part their two bodies. Gabriel floats away from him. Sam tethers him with the clutch of a hand, maintains that one tenuous connection.

"So?" he says, a lazy smile plastered across his face. "Which one of us is convinced?"

Gabriel's mouth opens, and his eyes angle upward as he places the context of the remark. Then he puffs out an infuriated breath. "Wasn't the point in the first place," he mutters, a lame excuse. Sam laughs loud and hard. Gabriel glares at him.

The sky's gone dark now, and the stars are bright but indistinct, weakened by artificial light and a soft cloud cover. Sam leans back, curls one arm around Gabriel, and watches them sparkle. It's the most unlikely of scenarios. He has no idea how they got here, to this moment where they can look up at the stars together and be content in each other's company.

But still, it's nice.

*end*


End file.
